


Devotion

by 9CatLives



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Day 4, Gen, Prompt: Human Shielf, Vizard Found Family stuff, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9CatLives/pseuds/9CatLives
Summary: Who could really be surprised that he’d tell Ichigo everything? Everything those assholes had planned for Ichigo, and the actual consequences of treating himself as disposable as Urahara and Isshin were?





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Do I remember the timeline of the winter war? Do I remember where everyone was and how they tied into the battles? Fuck no, but it's a goddamn miracle I was able to write anything for this prompt.

Shinji had always had incredibly lucky timing. 

There were some ambiguities involving when and where the Vizards would be appearing, and Shinji, anxiously trying to calculate their odds and coming short, decided to bother Urahara about it.

He came upon a very curious conversation. 

Kurosaki Isshin was in the shoten, his gigai cast aside on Urahara’s porch while they talked. Shinji, chronically suspicious of Urahara, decided to wait and listen. This proved to be an excellent decision. 

“And you think Ichigo can really do it?” Urahara asked, his voice carrying a sobriety that only Aizen could bring out, “He’ll achieve the final form?”

Isshin nodded decisively. “Ichigo’s got far more potential than I did when I awakened it. It’ll just be a matter of how quickly.”

“And Ichigo knows the stakes?”

Isshin scoffed, “He’ll do anything for his sisters and his friends. Don’t doubt my boy, Urahara.”

Shinji felt something very cold unfurl under his skin. It wasn’t surprise or horror. Those things had long died out after so many years as a captain. It wasn’t betrayal, because as much as Urahara had helped them, Shinji had always known Urahara to be ruthless in the pursuit of his goals. 

No, Shinji felt the icy roar of protectiveness climb up his throat. Ichigo, as much as he had been raised by Isshin and groomed by Urahara, was _ his _ ward now. It was _ Shinji _ that had housed him and fed him when Ichigo was falling apart. It was _ Shinji _ and the _ Vizards _that had kept Ichigo afloat, and eased him back into an almost respectable mental health. 

He had made his home with the _ Vizards. _ He was one of _ Shinji’s. _ But just like every time the Vizards did anything, they were pushed to the footnotes. Forgotten and ignored, but the moment it became convenient, those bastards wanted one of _ his _for themselves. 

Shinji left without a leaf rustling, seething. 

Shinji dove straight into Las Noches and found Ichigo. He had Ichigo’s bursting, hollow-tinged reiatsu memorized so it was quick work. 

“Shinji! What are you doing here!” Ichigo squawked. Another person might’ve thought he sounded annoyed, but Shinji heard the worry in his voice, and he smiled even as he grit his teeth. Ichigo definitely would have gone through with the _ final form _, no questions asked. The exploitation of that devotion actually managed to sicken him. 

In response, Shinji started to snitch. 

Who could really be surprised that he’d tell Ichigo everything? Everything those assholes had planned for Ichigo, and the actual _ consequences _of treating himself as disposable as Urahara and Isshin were? 

Ichigo weathered through the information with impressive stoicism, but that was just who Ichigo was. That’s what they, Shinji included, had forced Ichigo to become; someone who took whatever he was given and accepted it. Before this whole mess, when he’d been little more than a brat with a hollow, Shinji could read him. Now, he was different, and his stoicism seemed almost genuine. Ichigo really seemed unsurprised. 

“If that’s what I have to do-” he started, and Shinji growled. 

“No, Ichigo, that’s not what’m sayin’ at all. That’s _ not _what ya have to do.”

Ichigo eyebrows pinched together, and Shinji resisted the urge poke his forehead. 

“Aizen needs to be stopped.”

“Ichigo, this is ya damn soul. This is ya _ zanpakutou _ ya gonna lose, and ya ability to even _ see _ all the shinigami friends ya keep makin’. That doesn’t need ta happen. _ I _ don’t want that ta happen to ya.”

It may have been a little underhanded, but Ichigo was finally growing apprehensive. It was both relieving and horrifying, as even the thought of losing his zanpakutou wasn’t enough to convince Ichigo to completely dismiss the idea. 

“But… Aizen will only get stronger, right? He’s at his weakest right now, and what I’m… What if we don’t get another chance?”

Shinji shook his head, and placed a firm hand on Ichigo’s shoulder. Honestly, he wanted to wrap the kid in a hug. “Kid, I’ll be right there with ya. Me and ya together are more than enough to kill Aizen.” Especially if Urahara joined the fray, too. 

Ichigo blinked, staring at Shinji like he was waiting for the punchline, so Shinji slapped his head. It distracted Ichigo from the discomfort and disgust Shinji felt at them all for making Ichigo _ expect _to be working alone, and it distracted Shinji from noticing Ichigo’s watery smile. 

~~~

Shinji wasn’t there when Isshin finally met up with Ichigo. He had had preparations to make and reiatsu to build up and kido bombs to make. 

He heard about it though, as he and the Vizards rushed toward the battlefield. He heard it through Urahara, who was disappointed and terrified, and told it as though Shinji should feel the same. As though Shinji should talk to Ichigo about it. 

Shinji kicked Urahara out of the sky, but he was too goddamn proud to stay angry. 

~~~

Shinji really shouldn’t have been surprised that the cost of Ichigo not getting the final Getsuga Tensho was to stand before the newest Vizard and take Aizen’s final blow. 

The battle to that point had been harrowing and could scarcely be followed. An entire residential block of fake-Karakura town had been leveled without Shinji being at all aware of it. He’d released his bankai for the first time in several hundred years, and it took some very careful whispering, but Ichigo and him managed to work together with a shockingly large degree of success. 

It hadn’t been enough though. Aizen was healed as soon as he was injured, rejuvenated as soon as he tired. 

Ichigo eventually managed to scratch the hogyoku with a desperate attack, but the amount of reiatsu it had taken to do so left him exhausted and falling to his knees. Aizen’s serene face rippled with shock, but seeing an opening, he pressed forward. 

In a moment, Aizen was in front of the crumpled Ichigo, his blade poised high above his head. In between that moment and the next Shinji was between them. Aizen’s blade fell. 

Shinji… couldn’t feel anything. _ Anything. _ It was numb. Shinji had an idea of what happened, and definitely wasn’t going to ( _ couldn’t _) check. 

Figures, though. Beheading was _ exactly _up Aizen’s melodramatic alley. 

He heard Aizen scoff at him, because he wouldn’t be Aizen if he wasn’t constantly being a prick, and leave. The hogyoku had been damaged, after all, which should have been impossible, and it needed repairing immediately. In comparison, Aizen’s concern with the little Kurosaki was that of a person to an ant. It made Shinji’s blood boil, but it was saving Ichigo’s life, so he supposed he should be grateful. 

Ichigo hardly noticed their enemy had fled. He picked him up. That was weird. It made Shinij nauseous, but he didn’t have an esophagus for bile to climb up anymore, which was even weirder. 

Ichigo started to cry. Shinji blinked. Ichigo _ never _cried, never let the pain show. Shinji felt flustered, but he was too numb and weak to show it. Ichigo’s stoicism was strong enough to weather the manipulation of people he trusted, strong enough to withstand every strike Aizen sent his way, but now it was torn to pieces. 

Shinji scrambled to find something to console him with, but Shinji didn’t have a body, anymore; no arms to give a hug nor lungs to make reassuring words. 

“I’m so sorry, Shinji,” Ichigo breathed, his voice teetering with panic, “It’s all my fault. I could have stopped him, and now I never will. Goddamnit, Shinji, how am I supposed to face the rest of the Vizards? What am I supposed to tell them?” 

Shinji wanted to scream. He wanted to wack Ichigo over the head, and tell him it had been his choice to protect Ichigo. He wanted to tell Ichigo that he was proud of him. He wanted to tell Ichigo that it was okay, that he’d lived long enough, that Ichigo had barely even lived yet. 

“If I had just listened to dad…” 

Shinji had never felt so helpless. He was watching Ichigo slowly fall apart. All he could do now was sit in Ichigo’s hands as his spiritual pressure, which had been strong enough and dense enough to keep him alive this long, slowly dissipated. 


End file.
